


After

by shelara



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:54:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22176634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shelara/pseuds/shelara
Relationships: Jethro Gibbs/Jacqueline "Jack" Sloane
Comments: 16
Kudos: 157





	1. That Evening

Jack watched discreetly from the bullpen as Gibbs said his goodbyes to Phineas outside the conference room. She was pleased to observe that Phin’s aunt and uncle were practically beaming, each with a hand on one of Phin’s shoulders, maintaining contact lest he be pulled away from them again. Phineas himself looked happy, basking in their attention. Phin and Gibbs talked for a moment, Gibbs crouched low so they were eye to eye, then embraced. 

Gibbs smiled and waved at Phin as his aunt and uncle led him away. It wasn’t until the elevator doors swung shut that his cheerful expression crumpled, quickly replaced by one of his masks. Jack was alarmed to see how thin his usually impenetrable facade appeared. Although she doubted it was visible to anyone other than her, sadness seemed to be leaking out from all his edges. She took a few steps towards him. 

He caught her eye as he turned and headed for his desk, shaking his head just once. 

She frowned at him, closing the distance between them. “Gibbs-”

He shook his head again and huffed in annoyance. “Paperwork,” he said. 

“Gibbs-”

“Jack!” his exasperation was more than evident. Jack wasn’t surprised to see anger seething in his eyes. He seemed ready to lash out again, and Jack was relieved for the waste basket’s sake that Tim had tucked it away discreetly under his desk. 

Jack bit her tongue and took a step back. “Ok,” she said. “Okay. After.”

Gibbs rolled his eyes and pushed past her, but then came up short. He turned back around. “Did you check--”

Jack was already nodding, reaching out and clasping his forearm. “Of course,” she said, squeezing his arm reassuringly. “They’re good people. Of course, I checked.”

A measure of his anger seemed to deflate at her words. She saw him frown and sigh again. “Ok,” he said, quieter now. “Thank you.”

She smiled and nodded, still holding on to his arm, waiting. 

He looked down at her hand on his arm, clearly warring with himself. Finally, he seemed to reach a decision. “Paperwork might take awhile,” he said, almost softly, not meeting her eyes.

She nodded. “It always seems to,” she said, tugging his arm with a smile until he looked up and finally met her eyes. She smiled warmly at him, waiting. “We did a good thing today, Cowboy.”

He finally smiled thinly at her for the briefest of seconds. Then he gestured towards his desk. 

“I’ll wait,” she said. “Find me when you’re finished.”

He nodded curtly once. Only then did she let go of his arm.

\----

The paperwork did take awhile. After a few hours, Gibbs sent his team home, wrapping up the final details of their reports on his own. 

When everything was finally submitted, printed off and sent up for Vance to review in the morning, Gibbs leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a moment. He tried to relax - tried to keep his mind from acknowledging the swirling pit of anxiety he’d been carrying around all day. 

Phin is fine, he scolded himself. Ziver is fine. It all turned out okay. He swallowed hard. Only a few seconds passed before the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Without opening his eyes, he said, warningly “Jack---” 

“Come on, Cowboy,” she said softly, tugging on his shoulder. He felt his irritation flare - she was always pulling him. When she wasn't pushing him, that is. He waited a moment before he cracked open one eye. “Let me take you home.”

Gibbs eyed her warily. “I don’t want to talk,” he said. 

“I know,” she said, nodding. “And that’s okay. But it’s late. Let’s go home.”

\---

He let her drive him home. He let her follow him into his house and obeyed when she sent him up for a shower and a change of clothes. He tried not to think about what it meant that he followed her orders so automatically. When he came back downstairs, he ate the sandwich she made for him and drank the glass of milk she poured out. When he had finished, she stood behind him, put both hands on his back, and walked him back towards the stairs. 

“Sleep, Cowboy,” she said softly. 

“Stop pushing me,” he said softly, even as his feet obeyed her.

She laughed and stepped in front of him, grabbing his elbow and pulling him towards the stairs instead. 

He couldn’t help but laugh. She grinned up at him and stepped aside, giving him a bit of a firmer push at the bottom of the stairs.

He ascended the stairs to his bedroom. He sighed when he saw the window Phin had crawled out of was still open. He shut it then flopped down on the bed. 

He could hear Jack still moving around downstairs. Washing his plate and cup, putting them away in the cupboards. He listened as she made her way around the downstairs, turning off lights. He heard her flip the deadbolt in the front door. He sighed as he realized she had made her way back to his couch. No doubt she would be waiting for him in the morning, waiting to push and prod and pull him into talking. How annoying.

Gibbs closed his eyes and waited for sleep to come.

\---

A soft noise woke Jack a few hours later. The house was dark and mostly silent. She listened, then realized Gibbs was moving around upstairs. She tracked his movements from his bed to the bathroom and back again. Then heard him creep down the stairs. 

He was clearly trying very hard not to wake her. He descended slowly, avoiding the creaks and loose boards in the staircase expertly. Jack appreciated his effort not to wake her, though he needn’t have bothered. Years in the Army and her time in captivity had made her hyper vigilant, trained her to awaken at the slightest noise. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept through a night without being awoken, either by the soft street noises outside her window or by the cruel vestiges of one of her memories wrapped up in a nightmare. 

Gibbs padded by her, nearly silent in socked feet, passed through the kitchen and descended into the basement. Jack smiled to herself and listened as he moved around a bit in the basement. She listened carefully, waiting for the sounds of sandpaper on wood. 

She frowned a few minutes later when she heard only silence from the basement. She wondered what Gibbs could possibly be doing down there, if not working on his boat. Sulking alone, perhaps?

Jack sighed and sat up. She pulled a blanket around herself and headed towards the basement.

\---

Gibbs cursed silently to himself when he heard Jack coming down the basement steps. He just wished she would leave him alone. 

Jack was somewhat surprised to find the basement pitch black. “Gibbs?” she said, softly.

“Jack.” His voice came from the direction of the boat. 

Jack waited for her eyes to adjust to the dim moonlight coming in the basement windows. “Where are you?” she asked, puzzled.

She heard a dejected sigh, again from the direction of the boat. She headed towards it. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” Gibbs admitted softly. 

“Ah,” Jack said, following his voice to the boat. She reached it and crouched down, peering underneath. “So you decided to try lying on a cement floor rather than your bed?”

Despite the darkness, she was almost certain he rolled his eyes at her. “Couldn’t sleep,” he said again, as if that explained everything. She was surprised to hear a note of defensiveness in his voice. 

She could see him now in the dim light, sprawled out on his back under the boat. A thin blanket between him and the floor. He eyed her warily, as if daring her to try to make him come out. Jack smiled at him instead, unwrapped herself from her blanket, and climbed under the boat. 

“What’re you--”

“Move over, Cowboy,” she said, pushing at him until he made room for her on the thin blanket. She sat beside him and draped her blanket over the two of them before lying back. 

Silence reigned. Jack could feel tension rolling off of Gibbs. She was sure he was annoyed at her invasion of his space. She reached between them and found his hand, held it, and felt her heart swell when he sighed and interlocked their fingers. She used her thumb to rub small circles on his hand. 

“Sometimes,” she said softly, annoyed at how her voice caught at the admission. “Sometimes, I sleep in my closet.”

She heard him swallow, felt his fingers squeeze hers. She squeezed back and the tension in him disappeared. She rolled away from him, but kept hold of his hand, pulling him after her. She pulled their clasped hands to her chest, careful to hold him firmly but loose enough that he could refuse if he wanted to. 

Instead, he rolled into her back and she pressed a kiss to his fingers. He pulled her against his chest and buried his face in her hair. 

Eventually, they both slept.

\---


	2. In the morning

In the early morning hours, Gibbs awoke slowly. The pain in his back was the first real coherent thought to push through the fuzziness. Funny. He didn’t remember getting the shit kicked out of him yesterday… but his body absolutely ached.

Basement, his brain helpfully supplied. Cement floor. Too old.

Oh, right. 

Gibbs cracked his eyes open. It was still dark, not yet time to get up. He was rather uncomfortably wrapped up in a blanket that was making him overly warm. An unusually heavy blanket at that. He tried to shift unsuccessfully. 

Jack, his brain prodded again. Jack brought a blanket. 

Shit.

Gibbs was suddenly 100% awake, laying on his back on a cold cement floor, with Jack still soundly asleep, her body half draped over his. They also seemed to be rather hopelessly tangled in the blanket Jack had brought down.

“Jack,” Gibbs said quietly. 

“Mmmph,” Jack said, shifting a little.

He tried again, louder. “Jack.”

Then, in the blink of an eye, she was awake and sitting up. 

“Watch out--”

Gibbs was too late. Jack whacked her head soundly on the bottom of the boat. 

“Ah!” she exclaimed, ducking back down with her head in her hands.

“Sorry,” Gibbs said, trying unsuccessfully to untangle himself and reach for her at the same time. “Are you alright?” 

Jack didn’t answer. She was rubbing her head and muttering something he couldn’t make out. 

“What?” he asked, finally freeing himself and propping himself up on one elbow. He rubbed her shoulder, then reached for her head, feeling for a goose egg. He found a large one. “Aw, Jack.”

Jack leaned her head into him. He was startled and then relieved to hear her laughing. “Morning, Cowboy,” she said, her voice colored with equal parts sleep and humor. 

“What’s funny?” Gibbs demanded, utterly confused. He was suddenly ashamed of himself. Ashamed that she slept on a cold cement floor on his account. Ashamed of being the cause of her discomfort. Lord knows, he’d smacked his own head enough on the boat he should’ve known to warn her. “What did you say?”

She was laughing uncontrollably now. “I said,” she explained, in between puffs of laughter. “All the times I imagined seeing stars in bed with you, this wasn’t exactly how I pictured it.” 

Gibbs was glad for the early morning dimness when the meaning of her words washed over him and his cheeks flushed. “Jack,” he protested. Then his heart did a double skip. “Wait…. What do you mean ‘all the times’?”

She was still laughing and crawling away from him. “Come on, Cowboy,” she said. “Coffee.”

It took him a moment to gather his wits enough to follow her towards the kitchen. 

\---

When he reached the kitchen, Jack already had the coffee brewing. She stood at the counter, hands clasped almost in a prayer, waiting expectantly for the pot to finish. She looked tired, sleep mussed, cold and….

Absolutely adorable, his brain finished helpfully. 

Gibbs leaned into the counter next to her and tried in vain to straighten some of the more out of control wisps of her hair. She closed her eyes and leaned into his side as he worked his fingers through her hair, mindful of her injury. When he finished, she leaned into his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. 

“Sorry about your head,” he whispered into her hair. “Shoulda warned ya.”

“S’ok,” she said, her words muffled. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her face deeper into his shirt. When he felt her shiver, he ran his hands up and down her back to warm her.

“Didja sleep?” he asked quietly.

“Mmm-hmm,” she murmured. “You?”

He frowned, considering. “Yeah,” he said, somewhat surprised. “Back hurts like hell though.”

She chuckled into his chest. “Not as young as we used to be,” she said. 

“No,” he agreed, smiling. 

The coffee pot sputtered besides them and Jack turned in his arms enough to reach it. He let go of her with one arm just long enough to bring down two coffee mugs, which she filled. She took one mug in her left hand and kept her right arm around his waist. He took the other mug in his right hand and kept his left arm slung around her shoulders. They stood at the counter, holding one another like it was the most normal thing in the world to do. As if waking up together and drinking coffee in each other’s arms was just part of their routine. 

They finished at about the same time and Jack refilled their mugs. She twisted enough in his arms to smile up at him, before pulling him gently towards the living room. “Cold in here,” she explained. 

He let her pull him to the couch. He sat beside her and snagged another blanket, wrapping it around them both. When she finished her second mug, she pulled her feet up under her body and snuggled into his side. 

“This is a really excellent start to the day,” she murmured, laying her head on his shoulder.

“What is?” Gibbs asked as he finished his coffee and set the mug down. “Nearly getting a concussion?”

She laughed happily. “No,” she said. “This.” She gestured between them. “Cowboy. Coffee. Couch.”

His heart clenched a little at the wonder in her words. As if this was all she had ever wanted but never really expected to get. He realized then that she had never been certain. All her pushing and pulling and waiting on him had been a gamble. She had done it all, not knowing if he would ever be ready for her, not knowing if he would ever let her push and pull him to _here_.

Funny. He had always known it was only a matter of time.

He stroked her arm. “Cowboy, coffee, couch, huh?” he repeated softly. 

She nodded, eyes closed, a small smile on her lips. 

“You’re forgetting one,” he said, shifting to bring her closer, resting his own head gently on top of hers.

“Hmmm?” she asked, settling in to him.

“Cowboy, coffee, couch, … and cuddles,” he said. A split second later, he decided he would never grow tired of her laughter. 

She ducked her head out from under his to meet his eyes. An infectious smile graced her features as she studied him. “What about cowboy, coffee, couch, cuddles, … and kisses?”

He couldn’t help grinning at her while pretending to ponder it. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “Technically kisses is a K--”

She tasted like coffee and caramel and everything missing in his life.

\---


End file.
